The god of ferocity had thought he’d long forgotten what the abyss once looked like. Ten thousand years had changed too much—its past landscapes should have faded into dust, sealed away like old relics.

But the moment his feet touched the ground here again, he realized the memories hadn’t dulled at all. He could still count the curve of every dark plant by the path, as if this place had always existed—unchanged, etched into the deepest corners of his soul.

“Heave-ho, heave-ho…” came the little huffs of the puffballs bouncing along behind him. One of them, unsure of how he seemed to know the way so well, piped up: “Are you sure this is the right path? Should we go left instead?”

It made no difference. The god of ferocity knew, the moment they entered this place, they had already triggered the defensive barrier. They were sealed in. This space was closed—until someone came to find them, or they starved to death, they’d be running in endless circles.

Sure enough, after the nth lap brought them back to the same twisted tree, he figured the time was just about right.

Not long after, voices drifted closer from the distance—

“Hurry up! We’re late!”

“Stop rushing me! You’ve got eight legs, I’ve only got two! I’m going as fast as I can!”

Approaching were two abyssal creatures—one a stunning man with a human appearance, the other a seductive, inhuman beauty with a spider’s lower body.

It was well known that the stronger the abyssal variant, the more beautiful its form. And the power rolling off these two placed them at the very peak of the abyssal food chain.

Most abyss-born would never lay eyes on beings like these in their entire lifetime—and now two had appeared at once. The pressure in the air was suffocating.

The puffballs, who had been bouncing moments ago, now trembled into silence, huddling at the god of ferocity’s feet, unable even to whimper.

“Alright, alright, stop glaring like you’ll eat me,” the man grumbled. “It’s the once-in-a-century Abyssal Council. Of course I don’t want to miss seeing the descent of those three. If you don’t mind, I could just use a spatial gate and—”

He stopped mid-sentence. Sniffed the air.

“…What a delicious scent.”

The puffballs let out soundless screams. They forced down every instinct to flee, squeezing closer to the young god of ferocity, trying desperately to cover his scent with their own.

But a blink later, the man was no longer at a distance—he stood right in front of them.

“Oho~” He looked delighted, eyes gleaming as he stared at the boy. “Now what do we have here? Such prime… ingredients.”

If it had been any lesser creature, they would’ve already pounced, mindless and ravenous. A young god of ferocity at this age was no less tempting than fresh meat. But this one—this top-tier predator wrapped in the skin of a man—possessed terrifying self-control. He wouldn’t lower himself to frenzy. He had his pride.

BOOM—! A massive spider leg slammed into the ground where the man had just been. He dodged nimbly, but where he had stood was now a deep crater.

“What are you dawdling for?” the spider-woman snapped. “Open the gate already.”

The man, stunned, wasn’t expecting her of all people to be completely unmoved by such fine prey. No… she wasn’t unmoved—her mind was simply elsewhere. Whatever her goal was, it eclipsed all other appetites. Everything else was a nuisance.

Without another word, he slashed his hand through the air. A circular vortex appeared and quickly expanded to door-size.

Only then did the spider-woman’s expression ease slightly.

But someone moved faster.

The raggedly dressed boy scooped up the puffballs and leapt forward. No one had expected such boldness. By the time the two apex predators reacted, all they managed to grab was the edge of his cloak. The fabric tore in their hands as the boy disappeared through the gate.

“You little—!” the spider-woman roared. “Stop right there! You are forbidden from entering that court!”

She grabbed the man by his collar like a rag doll and charged in after him.

—Because beyond that gate… was the realm of those three. And some lowly insect dared to tread inside with filthy feet?

Unforgivable.

At the same time, in the deepest reaches of the abyss stood a palace of impossible beauty.

It didn’t match the rest of the abyss at all. Like a single, delicate flower blooming in the wasteland of the end times, it radiated dreamlike wonder.

The blood-red soil bloomed with impossible flowers—tender petals of blue, white, and pink, gently swaying as though dreaming. Fragile and soft, they blanketed the ground like fallen snow.

Before the palace, a number of abyssals stood in reverent silence.

“I wonder what this council will cover?”

“I heard the divine realm recently founded a god-kingdom, uniting all existing gods under one framework. They’ve begun inviting others to join. I’m curious how they will respond.”

In recent years, many gods had begun creating their own species. But as these races fought over limited resources, conflict escalated—and eventually dragged the gods into their war. Even gods without creations took sides. Several major divine wars had shaken the cosmos… so much so, even the abyss had felt it.

“They can fight all they want. The messier the better. As long as they don’t disturb the peace of the three lords.”

“I just want to hear their voices. If they gave me a command—any command—I would obey without hesitation.”

“Who wouldn’t?” the others muttered in agreement.

And then—they felt it.

A breath of presence.

The abyssals all stood. Words died in their throats. Their eyes gleamed with fervour—some hidden, others unchecked.

“He’s here.” That was the single thought blazing through every mind.

A soft breeze swept across the flower field. Petals, not of this realm, rose into the air in a glittering gust. Everyone’s vision blurred for a moment. Every petal seemed to shimmer with starlight.

And when their eyes cleared again… he was there, standing in the centre of the bloom.

The god didn’t speak, didn’t move—but simply standing there made the dim abyss shine brighter.

“Welcome to my garden,” he said softly, like greeting an old friend. But just his voice—gentle and enthralling—was enough to send half the crowd into a daze.

The rest, long familiar with his presence, forced themselves to remain upright. They had trained for this—for the privilege of not fainting before him.

“Good day to you, lord of beauty,” one abyssal said, falling to one knee. He dared not meet that gaze. “You appear well. That brings me great relief. It’s been a century since our last council—what an honor to see you again.”

Others shot him dirty looks for stealing the opening line, but followed suit with hasty bows. “We offer you our highest regards, my lord.”

Hexin—still wrapped in the form of the beauty god—nodded naturally, waving them off. “Be at ease. Since the dark god is currently absent from the abyss, I’ll be relaying his stance for today’s matters.”

The news that the dark god was away did surprise them, but none dared pry. A god’s movements were not for them to question. Being this close to one was already more than they could have dreamed.

None objected. All of them instinctively kept their distance—ten meters or more. That was the closest they could get without losing control. Any nearer, and they might faint from the pressure.

Hexin had told them to relax. And even though it was nearly impossible with their hearts pounding out of their chests, they tried their best to comply.

“I don’t remember seeing these flowers last time,” someone said, staring at the sea of blooms. “Are they new? Imported from the human realm?”

Seeing such fragile things thrive in the abyss was already a miracle.

“Oh… these?” the god of beauty’s eyes softened, a genuine smile touching his lips. “We grew them ourselves. The process was… unexpectedly fun.”

 “It—it was made by all three of the great ones?!”

One abyssal’s face turned crimson, overcome with inexplicable emotion. He looked ready to drop to his knees and kiss the ground beneath his feet. “Ahh… to think I’m standing in such a place… this truly is…!”

Everyone present was a fearsome being in their own right—warriors with bloody legends behind their names, creatures that could tear monsters apart bare-handed. And yet now, these apex predators curled their toes inward, tense and afraid even to breathe too hard, lest their claws accidentally tear a single petal.

A few meters away, one hulking abyssal crouched low to the ground, squinting carefully at a single bloom.

—This flower might’ve been touched by a god.

His hand, capable of crushing terrifying foes, now trembled with hesitation. He didn’t dare touch it. His uncertainty was almost comical.

Hexin, watching them, found himself a little sentimental. It was after this council, he recalled, that the three brothers made the decision to leave for the divine realm. Though not immediately—they didn’t leave the abyss without thought. The god of beauty had even prepared two successors to take their place.

…And as if summoned by thought, the successor arrived.

The air rippled suddenly. Hexin turned toward the familiar aura—just in time to see the god of ferocity come crashing in from the sky.

The boy fell hard into the field of flowers, petals scattering everywhere. The giant abyssal who had just been admiring a blossom watched in frozen horror as that very flower was crushed beneath the boy’s fall.

But the boy wasn’t done. Whatever he saw or thought in that moment, he bolted straight toward Hexin.

The abyssals: …???

Reacting too late, they shouted as one: “You dare?!”

But Hexin was faster.

Silver chains appeared in the air, materializing out of nothing. They snapped forward in streaks of light, wrapping around the boy’s limbs and waist, suspending him midair. The chains also blocked the enraged abyssals from approaching further.

Everyone went still as Hexin calmly walked forward.

A moment later, the spider-woman and her companion landed behind the crowd. Their expressions shifted the instant they sensed what was happening—they were surrounded.

“Explain. How did he come out of your gate?” one abyssal demanded.

Those who still had reason held back, but others were barely restrained, their claws twitching. A single shout kept them in check:

“Before the gods—what are you thinking?!”

The spider-woman and her companion drew sharp breaths and began stammering their explanation. With every word, their understanding of the situation became clearer. They dropped into bows without hesitation.

“Please punish us—we never intended for this to happen!”

Around them, the others followed, one after another falling to their knees. Their faces weren’t full of fear, but a deep, furious shame—shame at themselves, and fury toward the intruder.

Hexin waved them off gently. He stood before the god of ferocity, debating whether to reveal the truth—that this wasn’t a fragment of illusion, but his actual self standing here.

Before he could decide, the boy smiled at him—a wild, blood-edged grin more intense than anything the others had shown.

Maybe it was the form, or the state of mind, but even knowing it was an illusion, the boy’s feelings felt just as fierce as back then.

…Or perhaps, because it was an illusion, he could finally let himself feel freely, no longer bound by restraint.

He was looking at the face he had first fallen for.

—It felt like every drop of blood in his body rushed to his heart. The pressure made it feel like his chest would burst, like his heart would explode and splatter against his ribs, needing flame to burn it all to ash. Only in destruction could he stop looking at this person.

He remembered what he said, back then:

Save me, great god…

But now, what came out was different:

“Are you going to kill me, great god? Go on—punish me. Punish this reckless, disrespectful fool who dared to offend you. It’s what I deserve.”

—You saved me. And you abandoned me.

In this illusion where the soul’s truth could no longer be hidden, his fury and longing surged like a tide. He finally admitted it: the pain, the resentment, the helplessness. That even now, no matter how furious, he couldn’t lay a hand on this person. He couldn’t even bite him.

Hexin looked at him for a long moment.

Then, to everyone’s shock, the god of beauty lifted a hand and placed one slender fingertip against the boy’s chest—against his heart.

The cold of divine touch transferred to warm skin. The boy jerked, body snapping taut, and bit back a groan.

Then, the finger slowly pressed through skin, fabric, flesh—reaching deeper, inch by inch.

“—!” The boy trembled violently, arching his back as pain and sensation overtook him, but the chains held firm.

Light radiated from where they touched—pure and white, shielding the act from any prying eyes. The surrounding abyssals fell utterly silent.

—This was where gods differed from ordinary beings. A strike to the heart would kill any mortal. But a god’s heart was something else entirely: it held their soul, their power. If approached without hostility, it could be touched.

Still… it was sacred. Like a dragon’s reverse scale—but worse. It was a place no one could ever, ever be allowed to reach.

Except this time was an exception.

Because the god of beauty had seen something extraordinary in this boy—something he wanted to protect. But first, he had to confirm it.

Through the radiant glow, Hexin saw it.

A golden fruit, pulsing on the branch of an unseen tree, beating like a heart.

No one would have guessed it—this embodiment of ferocity held a soul so beautiful. The fruit wasn’t solid gold; it shimmered with dancing lights, like glowing fireflies suspended in honeyed crystal.

Among all abyssal gods, save for himself and his brothers, Hexin had never seen another soul that shone.

If it’s him… he can do it.

“…What a beautiful heart,” the god murmured—offering his recognition to this soul, scarred and uncertain as it was.

He’ll grow into a worthy successor… he just needs more time.

With utmost gentleness, he touched the fruit—testing, exploring. A moment of stillness.

And then, he kissed it.

Outside, the boy let out a strangled gasp. His soul twisted and flared. The chains clinked under the strain of his body writhing, his mind unraveling under the sheer force of the connection.

It was pain. It was more than pain.

Someone had entered his soul.

No—more than that.

The god of beauty leaned in and pressed a kiss to that pulsing fruit.

And in doing so—Hexin fully released his divine power.

The golden fruit erupted. Fireworks bloomed inside his heart. Dazed, lost in shock, the boy looked up—and saw the most beautiful god in existence smiling gently down at him.

“I like you,” the god whispered. “From now on, grow well.”

He ruffled the boy’s hair.

“Be a good child.”

The world began anew.

The heavens stirred. Mountains rose. Rivers surged. Wind rushed through the ancient darkness.

The sun and moon spun once more.

And in the stillness that followed—

A new light was born.